


Tired

by Donzepan



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Depression, Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24104257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donzepan/pseuds/Donzepan
Summary: Hazel's late night thoughts. Takes place Before Mark of Athena.
Kudos: 7





	Tired

**Author's Note:**

> I love Hazel Levesque and I love angst, so this came together at 2:00 in the morning the other week.

She never really got over the pain. She just got better at hiding it. She laid awake while the world was asleep, in a deep slumber she almost wished she could succumb to. She couldn't though. When she slept she dreamed. When she dreamed her memories were vivid. When she dreamt the arms grabbing her and the rocks whizzing by her and the dark murky oil suffocating her, taking her breath away; they were real. She was 13 years old again, in 1941, and she was tired. (So tired).  
So she stays awake and listens. Listens for the the steady snores of her cabinmates. Listens for the rustle of the wind. The creaks on the floorboards from the cabinmate that stays away longer than she does, tinkering away a new invention(She never confronts him. He needs his time, as does she). She watches the shadows dance on the ceiling, and instead of fear, they make her feel numb. She's not scared of the dark anymore(she never flinches when Nico and her shadowtravel, what are you talking about?). She's safe, in her bed, with her friends. She has a wonderful boyfriend, an amazing brother, and the best friends she could ask for. She's the Praetor's girlfriend, one of the six, daughter of Pluto(who couldn't protect her, who let her move to Alaska, and she knows it's not his fault but her heart still squeezes when she thinks about it and it hurts and why didn't he protect her). She helped defeat Gaia. All of her issues have been solved. There are no new problems in her life, and the old ones aren't that important(" Why can't you be grateful for everything I've done for you? You have everything provided for you, you should be singing my praises not staring out the window sad about your friend. Friends aren't important. They just hurt you. I'm here, and I'll never hurt you Hazel. I'll fill your life with riches and dresses to your heart's content").  
The line between Gaia and her mother had blurred during those dark cold days in Alaska, and they blurred further during her near 70 years in Asphodel The last year if her life was cold, dark and quiet. It was a simple but effective cold, billowing and deadly, snuffing out the remaining fire in her, as easy as blowing out a candle. The fire sparked again in the cave, small and sputtering, but there. She went to Asphodel(It never went out). The flame flickered in and out but it was never snuffed. (She doesn't know what she'd do if it was snuffed out again. She's not sure she wants to find out.) Camp Jupiter is bright, but her world was still dark. Her flame burned a bit brighter when she took the hand of the scrawny white boy hovering in the fields. It burned brighter still when she met Frank and Percy. By the time the war was over the flame was back, burning brighter than ever before. Her life was great. She was fine(So why was she staring blankly at the ceiling, and why does she flinch when voices are raised too high, and why does she walk faster when she sees middle age white men crossing the street, and why does it feel like she hears the whispers of the primordial entity that pretended to be her mother in the silence and why does she feel cold black oil crawling up her throat as her head swims and she's choking until she's falling and her eyes are closing and she can't breathe and what did that raven say again and oh god).  
Her eyes dart across as she sluggishly identifies the things around her. Her jean jacket, the book about machines, the open sketchpad on the desk near her bed, the colored pencils that accompany it, the half full glass of water on her bed. She attempts to catch her breath. It's not the first time since then that she's lost her breath but she was extra terrified now. Her memories haunt her both as she wakes and as she sleeps. She can never escape(and maybe she doesn't deserve to, maybe she should have stayed dead in that cave, sinking to the bottom of the lake). She curls her knees up to her chest and cries. Silent, shaky sobs that break off and start again. Silent cries that no one else can hear(Cause if it doesn't make a sound, did it ever happen?).  
Soon it'll be morning, and she'll have to pretend to wake up. She'll smile with Percy and kiss Frank and maybe spar with Annabeth. Come morning she'll be back to normal(what ever normal is). But it's nighttime, and at night she cries. And if her sobbing lasts a little longer than normal and she fall flat on her face at breakfast, well, she not going to dwell on it too much. She's fine(She's so tired).

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. I think I subconsciously referenced this song 
> 
> https://youtu.be/MFaBmcCz_HU


End file.
